by Tami Lund
“Hey, that’s my granddaughter in there.”
Sofia’s eyes widened as she stared at him.
He scratched his head. “It’s about time I did something useful anyway. The reason I’m not reeve is because I was lousy at the job. I’m feeling the need to redeem myself.”
“I’m not sure this is going to work,” Antoinette said.
“Actually, I think it will,” Sofia said. “It will throw Darius off-kilter. He has this compulsive need to control everything, and this is definitely going to be outside his control.”
Trennon patted her shoulder. “Looks like my sperm isn’t useless after all.”
Sofia shook her head and tried not to smile. As far as compliments from one’s father went, that was definitely an odd one.
Griffin grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, but she shook him off. She was finally in charge of her own life, and frankly, that included her love life. Which meant it was time to start moving on.
With Trennon on one side and Maria on the other, Sofia said, “Let’s go,” and together they walked down the alley until Maria pointed to their destination.
There weren’t any guards posted outside, which Maria whispered wasn’t surprising. They wouldn’t want to take the chance of battling in a place where humans could see them.
Sofia threw back her shoulders and marched toward the nondescript door Maria said led into the storeroom in the back of the antiques shop. She listened for a moment but heard no sounds. “Are you sure he brought her here?” she whispered to Maria, who nodded.
“You better not be leading us into a trap,” Trennon said, his voice taking on a menacing tone.
“Trust me, I would have kept the heels on if that were the case. Darius has some sort of fetish around them.”
Sofia raised her hand. “Didn’t need to know that about my asshole brother.” She sucked in a breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”
They stepped into an empty storeroom. Steel shelving units were overturned and empty boxes lay on their sides, multicolored packing material strewn across the plywood floor. A card table was flattened in the middle of the room, the legs sticking out at odd angles, as if someone had sat on it and broken it. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.
Except where it was disturbed by shoe imprints.
A lot of imprints.
The eerie silence was abruptly broken by a series of popping noises, like a popcorn machine had suddenly turned on. And then one after another, men appeared out of nowhere, standing in the storeroom. Each one wore leather pants, leather vests with no shirts underneath, and leather hats on their heads.
These guys were definitely not dragons.
Trennon grabbed Sofia and Maria’s arms and dragged them both behind him as he said, “Shit just got real. These are warlocks.”
Sofia gasped. “Griffin!”
Chapter Seventeen
Griffin shot to his feet. “They’re in trouble!”
“Damn,” Delilah said, standing much more slowly. “That was quick.”
He didn’t wait to ensure the rest of them followed. He sprinted down the alley to the door where only a few moments ago, Sofia, Maria, and Trennon had stepped through. He rushed inside and skidded to a halt.
Sofia, Maria, and Trennon were huddled together a few steps inside the room, staring at a cluster of men who looked as if they’d just returned from partying at the Blue Oyster Bar.
“Ah,” one of them said, stepping forward and addressing Griffin. “Someone we can talk to. Hello there, gargoyle.”
Griffin stared the warlock down and did not reply.
The leather-clad man clapped his hands. “Now, where’s the Daughter of Light?”
Griffin quickly surveyed the scene. If Darius was here with Penelope, he was doing a damn good job of hiding. “What makes you think we have a Daughter of Light here?”
The warlock pulled a phone out of his breast pocket and waved it at Griffin. “This notice I got on Twitter. It says, ‘Attention hashtag warlocks: I have a Daughter of Light, if you’re interested. Come to Dragon Antiques in New Orleans. Royal Street.’” He waved the phone again and looked around at the small group, a seemingly pleasant smile on his face. “So, where is she?”
“Whoever posted that lied to you,” Griffin said.
“Uh-uh,” the warlock replied. “The next tweet says, ‘This is not fake.’”
“And you believe everything you read on social media?”
The guy frowned and looked down at his phone for a moment, then shrugged. “We had nothing else going on this morning, so what the hell.” He glanced around again. “Are you saying this is a dead end?”
The thing about Daughters of Light was that warlocks could sense them if they were not using concealment spells to hide themselves. However, Penelope was so young she hadn’t fully come into her magic yet, so it was entirely possible these guys could not yet sense her.
Griffin was banking on that theory. “Yep.”
“Too bad.” The warlock sighed and turned to his cronies. “What do you think, boys? Should we hang out for a day or so, enjoy the local sights?”
One of the guys behind him pointed at Griffin and said, “Gargoyles don’t tend to hang out alone.”
The leader rolled his eyes dramatically. “Good point.”
“Yeah,” another one piped up. “Isn’t Oliver’s brethren based here? Otherwise, we would have surely come here sooner. I’ve heard New Orleans is the place to party.”
The leader’s shoulders drooped. “You’re right. Damn it. Well, let’s—”
“Not so fast.”
Darius stepped through a door Griffin assumed led to the front of the shop, dragging Penelope along with him. He was gripping her upper arm and she was struggling with impressive will.
“Mommy!”
“Daughter of Light,” the lead warlock said, and then he turned around and arched his narrow, manicured brows. “Did she just call you Mommy?” He cocked his head. “Aren’t you a dragon?”
Sofia swallowed and nodded.
“Interesting.” He clapped his hands and flung around to face Darius and Penelope again. “No matter. Hello, Daughter.”
“I’m not your daughter,” Penelope snapped with her little brow furrowed.
The warlock chuckled. “No, you most certainly are not. You are my prey, though.”
“What’s that?” Penelope asked.
“Well, it’s like a wolf and a bunny rabbit. The wolf wants to eat the bunny. I’m the wolf and you’re the bunny.”
Penelope’s eyes went huge in her head, and she moved behind Darius.
“You can have her,” Darius said. “But first, I need you to kill those three dragons.” He pointed at Sofia, Trennon, and Maria.
Maria gasped. “You want them to kill me?”
Darius shrugged.
“Smart plan, son,” Trennon said. “Have an entirely different species kill me so your hands are perceived as clean. And while the colony grieves the death of their former reeve, you swoop in and take over.”
Darius nodded. “Yep, that pretty much sums it up. Although I do plan to have Antoinette and Ketu killed too. Those two have been a major pain in my ass.”
“Why me?” Maria demanded. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”
He sneered. “You’re wearing flip-flops, for the gods’ sake.”
“That’s the reason you’re having me killed?”
“No. That just affirms my reason. I’m having you killed because I have no need of you anymore. Plus, based on the shoes, I’m thinking you’ve switched sides.”
“You bastard!” Maria charged. The cluster of warlocks stepped out of the way, allowing her a straight shot at her end goal. Darius’s eyes widened, and then he jerked his hand away from Penelope as if touching her burned his skin.
Penelope darted away, running down an aisle strewn with packing material, while Maria curled her body and slammed her shoulder into Darius’s midsection, sending him hurtling backward u
ntil he hit the wall. When he crumpled to the floor, he left behind a Darius-shaped hole in the drywall.
Several of the warlocks snickered while the others clapped. Sofia rushed after Penelope, and Griffin chased after her. At the end of the row, they both stopped and looked every which way.
“Where is she?” Sofia demanded.
Griffin focused on the air, searching for traces of magic. “I think she’s figuring out how to use her magic. But I’m not sure what, exactly, she’s doing.” He glanced up and spotted her, crouching on the very top shelf, only a foot or so away from the high ceiling. She waved, teetered on her perch, and then wrapped her arms around a metal post.
Sofia glanced up, gasped. “Gods above, what is she doing up there?”
“I think she magicked herself up there.”
“Well, how do we get her back down here?”
“We either go up after her or wait for her to figure out how to get herself down.” He took in his surroundings. “This space is too small to shift in. We’d totally draw their attention. So we need her to do it on her own.” He heard a sound behind him. “Or better yet, let her stay up there for a while.” He turned around.
“What? Are you crazy? She could—” Sofia turned around too and abruptly stopped talking. Three warlocks were walking toward them with menacing looks on their faces.
“Here’s the thing about warlocks,” Griffin said as he eyed the enemy and shifted his stance so that he stood slightly in front of Sofia. “They’re really hard to kill. Like damn near impossible. Delilah could probably do some damage, but what we really need right now is a Daughter of Light who has actually come into her magic.”
“That’s not particularly reassuring,” Sofia said, “since there isn’t one handy at the moment.”
“Yeah, the only other one I’m aware of is Argyle’s daughter, and last I heard, she and Argyle are in Asia. Which means the only option we have is to fight our way out and get Penelope to the City of the Dead. There are so many charms and curses around it that they won’t be able to enter. She’ll be safe there until we can call in reinforcements.”
He could hear the sounds of a scuffle, which he figured was the rest of the warlocks battling with Antoinette and Ketu and the other dragons.
The three stalking warlocks were about ten feet away now. Griffin reached out and snagged Sofia’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “This is really lousy timing, but I want you to know that I love you.”
“What?”
He glanced down at her. She was staring at him like he’d just told her the president was a warlock.
“I told you my timing sucks. But I just want you to know.”
“This is not a conversation I’m willing to have with you right now.”
“Because you love me too.”
“Because it doesn’t matter,” she snapped, and then she gave him a shove that sent him stumbling backward while she swung at the nearest warlock, catching him on the chin and sending him stumbling too.
“It totally matters,” Griffin insisted while he tackled a second warlock, grabbed his head, and slammed it against one of the steel bars attached to the shelving unit where Penelope was hiding. The entire thing shuddered, and he cursed his own stupidity. Next time, slam the guy into the wall.
“Even if we get out of this thing alive, you can’t have a relationship, remember?” Sofia said as she kneed a warlock in the groin.
Griffin winced while the guy fell to the ground and curled into the fetal position. “It’s important that you know how I feel. Besides—”
A warlock jumped onto his back, and he headbutted the guy, then shoved him into the wall. It gave under the pressure, and they both tumbled through into the front section of the antiques shop.
Sofia stepped through the hole in the wall behind them. “Why? Why would you do that to me? Why is it so important that I know how you feel when you won’t do anything about it?”
She stood there with her hands on her hips while Griffin and the warlock scuffled on the floor. After a few moments, she reached down and punched the warlock in the face, and Griffin scrambled out of his slackened grip. He stood and brushed drywall dust from his shirt, making Sofia cough and wave her hand in front of her face.
“I can’t, Sofia, not won’t. At least, I thought I couldn’t. But maybe—” He punched the warlock again, knocking him out, and then headed back toward the storage room.
“Maybe what?” she demanded, following him.
“Duck,” he shouted, and she did. A warlock went flying past, crashing into a display of centuries-old Mardi Gras decorations.
“I want to complete the dragon mating ritual,” he said.
She paused in the middle of a fist fight with a warlock. The guy took advantage of the distraction and punched her. Griffin roared, grabbed the guy by the head, and slammed him into the concrete floor before kicking him in the kidneys.
“You okay?” he asked Sofia.
She brushed off his concern. “You would seriously mate with me?”
“Are you kidding? Hell yes.”
“If you could.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m trying to tell you—”
Something hit him in the face, and he shifted his focus to fending off the warlock who attacked him. The guy was suddenly jerked away from him; a woman with bronze skin and a long, blonde braid placed her hands on the guy’s head and twisted until a crack rent the air.
The woman dropped the dead warlock and brushed her hands together before smiling at Griffin. “Hi there.”
He stared back until Sofia joined him. “Daughter of Light,” he finally said.
Her grin widened. “I’m Becca. Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Griffin said, but his attention was caught by movement behind her.
She lifted one finger. “Hold that thought.” She whipped around and made quick work of destroying the warlock who had attempted to sneak up on her.
“Damn,” Sofia said, her voice breathy.
Becca flipped her braid over her shoulder. “So, who are you two?”
“I’m Griffin.”
“From Oliver’s brethren.”
He nodded. “Yes. And this is Sofia.”
“A dragon. Part of the Rojo colony?”
Sofia shook her head.
Becca’s eyes widened. “O-o-oh. You’re the one raising a Daughter of Light.”
Sofia nodded.
“Nice to meet you. Where is she?”
Sofia pointed up. Becca followed the line of her finger. Griffin glanced up too. Penelope was still perched on the top shelf of the steel storage unit, her arms wrapped around one of the metal poles.
“Hi,” Becca said, waving. “Do you need help getting down?”
Penelope nodded.
“What about the warlocks?” Sofia asked.
Becca stabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “That was the last one. They’re all dead now. Hang on, I’m coming up.”
There was a popping noise, similar to when the warlocks appeared, and then Becca was gone. Griffin jerked his head up and spotted her sitting next to Penelope. They had a quick conversation, then Penelope wrapped her arms around Becca’s neck and they both disappeared, reappearing in front of Griffin and Sofia.
“Penelope!” Sofia cried and grabbed her daughter, pulling her into a hug until Penelope protested that she couldn’t breathe.
“Come on,” Becca said, and they followed her down the row to the open area of the storage room, where several more warlocks lay dead on the ground. Although a few of them sported cuts and bruises and were grimacing as if in pain, none of the group that had accompanied them had suffered the same fate, thank the gods.
Darius sat at Antoinette’s feet, his hands secured behind his back. He appeared to have taken the most abuse of the crowd, other than the warlocks, of course. Griffin suspected Maria may have done most of the damage.
Besides Antoinette, Ketu, Delilah, Trennon, and Maria, another dragon and ano
ther gargoyle had joined the crowd. The gargoyle was huge, with a bald head, ebony skin, and more muscles than anyone Griffin had ever experienced. The dragon had shaggy brown hair and a worried look directed at Becca.
As soon as she stepped into view, he rushed toward her, pulling her into his arms and then pushing her away so that he could press his hand to her belly. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
She pushed his hand away. “Thanks a lot, Rahu. I was going to wait until later to tell everyone.”
“You’re pregnant?” Antoinette asked, and when Becca nodded, she squealed and clapped her hands. “How exciting! Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Becca said, her cheeks pinking. “We weren’t exactly planning to start a family this quickly, but…”
Rahu puffed out his chest and grinned.
“As soon as they told me, I insisted we return to New Orleans until after the birth of the babe,” the big, scary-looking gargoyle said.
“Turned out to be perfect timing,” Becca said. “We were already halfway home when Oliver reached out and informed us that we were needed to protect a young Daughter he’d just discovered.”
“Oliver called you?” Griffin asked.
Becca nodded. The big gargoyle studied Griffin. “Who are you?”
“I’m Griffin. Your newest team member. I’m guessing you’re Argyle.”
He nodded. “I am.” He glanced at Sofia. “And this is the dragon who has been raising a Daughter of Light, but no one was aware until just recently.”
“Yeah,” Sofia said. “Like, two days ago.”
“That’s pretty recent,” Rahu said.
“I have so many questions,” Griffin said.
“I’m sure we all do,” Antoinette said. She waved at a sullen Darius. “But I need to get this guy into a prison cell. And I need to figure out how to deal with Maria’s treason. The colony will need an update on Darius’s capture. We need to round up whichever dragons he convinced to join his coupe. We have—”
“We got it, baby,” Ketu interrupted. “Let’s go so we can get started on that long list.”
Antoinette nodded, jerked Darius to his feet, and marched him toward the door. A heavy hand landed on Griffin’s shoulder, and he glanced up into the clouded face of Argyle, Oliver’s most highly esteemed gargoyle.